Sylvia J. Yanez
Hi, I'm Melting.
Sylvia J. Yanez’s Hi, I’m Melting has its sense of humor, starting from the title. It exudes a friendliness that draws a viewer in. But there’s something harrowing going on, too. There are the cracked patches of paint like angry scabs, the colors bleeding and running together seeming out of control. That the paint is roughly in the shape of the United States, and that it appears to be melting down, gives it an extra push into chilling territory, though explicitly commenting on the current political situation isn’t Yanez’s stated objective. The aim of her art is more personal, more social; maybe you could say deeper.
Sylvia J. Yanez
Emotions of the Winter.
Her art is on display in a solo show that opened this week at Blue Orchid at 150 Court St.
Describing herself as a “mental health advocate, focusing on the youth and LGBTQIA+ community,” Yanez “has used her paintings and writings to create a space of complete rawness and truth. She crafted her brand Keep Breathing to connect with others and allow them a space to feel heard, supported, and represented. Her writings dive into mental health advocacy and speaking on challenging topics. Within her paintings, she utilizes color schemes and patterns to tap into internal emotions directly. Exploding into the world of abstract art and therapeutic expression, Sylvia uses oils, acrylics, and mixed mediums.”
Yanez also uses words. Part of the exhibit are two books — an anthology of poetry, in which she has a published poem, and a book called You Jump, I Jump. The poem and the book aren’t supplements to the paintings, but parts of the whole of Yanez’s practice. You Jump, I Jump is a short illustrated epistolary novel about a young man named Shaun, who, after his brother JP commits suicide, struggles with his own mental health and substance abuse problems. When we meet him, he has already been committed to an institution. The book goes into excrutiating detail about his family’s larger problems — a “household of secrets, lies, and deception,” as the book description puts it — and Shaun’s problems worsen as the book goes on. It’s in You Jump, I Jump that we see the origins of the phrase that titles the show. The book is dedicated to 10 people who grew up around New Haven and left us too soon; what sounds in one context like an instruction to relax, or a part of physical exercise, is in fact a mandate to continue living: “keep breathing.”
Don't Throw Stones When You Live in a Glass House.
In short, the stakes in Yanez’s work can feel like life and death. But there is vitality and hope, too. The paintings are a way through whatever traumas the past might hold, a way to connect better with others and the self. Something of this is articulated in the poem that accompanies the exhibit. It’s about falling in love, but more than that.
“I never allowed myself to find my person because as an artist, all we want to do is create. / Create new sceneries. / Create new emotions. / Create new surroundings. / Create a new person. / I thought I knew, but that’s when you get when you mix glitter and glue,” she writes. “Then you walked through that door and suddenly, / everything I thought I knew was utterly untrue / because everything I should of known was standing between the doorway. / And just like they said I don’t know how I knew but I knew, / I didn’t want to be anywhere away from you.”
Yanez finds someone to fall in love with, but in that love she also finds something more of herself. That’s in the paintings too; in their abstractions is the promise of transformation, to be whoever you want — and to revel in the process of finding out who that might be. Taken all together, “Keep Breathing” is a portrait of a young artist coming into her own, not just living, but living for a reason.
